


Of Machiavelli, Livy and Curtains

by Astray



Category: Assassin's Creed
Genre: Community: asscreedkinkmeme, Gen, Machiavelli dresses up, Volpe being himself, non-standard use of curtains
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-26
Updated: 2012-11-26
Packaged: 2017-11-19 14:44:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 919
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/574403
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Astray/pseuds/Astray
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"It is said that Machiavelli would sometimes prepare to read by dressing up in the period of the writer he was reading and then setting a table for the two of them." Cue him making make do to have a toga, and of course, La Volpe finding out.<br/>(Kinkmeme Prompt)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Of Machiavelli, Livy and Curtains

**Author's Note:**

> Post-Brotherhood setting, mostly because Machiavelli wrote his 'Discourse on Livy' around 1512-1517. However, I think it took him years to finish this work of his so I'll make it pre-ACR, just in case (Ezio just set sails). De Principatibus (Of the Principalties) was the original name of The Prince and first finished in 1512. It was printed several years later. (Thanks Wiki).
> 
> Also, _mulsum_ is a kind of honeyed wine drunk on occasion by the Romans.

It was a calm, sunny summer day, the like of which had not been seen in a long time. Machiavelli finally had time to set to work, without having to worry about the Borgias. It was a strange feeling. De Principatibus was already finished, so he had more time to think about Livy. This project had been playing in his mind for a while but only now he could work at his leisure. His office was littered with various parchments, drafts and notes, bellying his reputation of being an overly organized man. Running the Brotherhood without Ezio around demanded most of his attention and he found that the apparent cluttering of his workplace helped him think - while he was hunting down a particular piece, he could think about it some more. And decide to discard it in the end.  
This twentieth book of Livy's _Ab Urbe Condita_ had been sitting on his desk for days, and only now did he manage to finally read it. Ancient History struck interesting parallels to present times indeed. He went about, muttering under his breath and taking notes, unaware of time's passing. As the afternoon sun was warming the white stones of the walls with copper, he went to his desk, taking a cup of the mulsum he had been keeping for himself and his 'guest'. Discussing Livy's work was indeed time consuming, but well worth it.

Only a sound near the window woke him from his musing. As he turned sharply to the side, he was certain he could recognize this low laughter anywhere. Maybe it was a trick of the light, for he only had time to glimpse a shadow, before nothing could be seen but the sprawling, endless sea of ochre rooftops. Damned be La Volpe for making him loose his train of thoughts. He turned back to the forgotten folios, ready to dive back into Latin.

"Had someone ever told me I would see you in a toga... I would have laughed."

It should have startled Machiavelli. What worried him was that it did not. Perhaps because he was so used to have the thief sneaking around. And this was a problem in itself.

"Did you come simply to bother me, Volpe? I am afraid I have much work to do." And I can't get a single lick of work done when you are around, especially when you are... "And please, don't start with my papers."

"Unless you wouldn't find them? Even a vixen would not find her young in all that... ordered disorder of yours."

Machiavelli suddenly wanted to pinch his nose and breath deeply, for fear he would snap at the man - which would surely make him all too happy. Sometimes, he really thought someone somewhere sent La Volpe out just to annoy him. The sound of a cup laid on the wooden surface of the desk made him look up.  


"What kind of wine is this? Surely, I would never have expected someone like you to drink anything so sweet."

"Mulsum, Master Thief."

"The Roman one?"

No, he would not grace the man with an answer. No sir.  


"Sooooo, drinking Roman niceties and wearing a toga. I didn't know you enjoyed dressing up."  
Stony silence echoed in the room, only broken by Machiavelli's heartfelt sigh.  
"Why would you do so?" Curiosity kills the cat, and apparently foxes are not immune. Though, Machiavelli had to admit that Volpe's way of wanting to know everything was useful - if annoying to anyone dealing with the man more than once or twice. It infuriated him.  


"It makes me closer to the author of my sources. Not that I would expect you to know anything about that."

"I know more than you give me credit for, Niccolò."  
Surely, it was true, one did not become the most renowned thief of the peninsula without a few tricks. And the man was a trickster at heart most of the time indeed.  


"Now, if you'll excuse me, I will be going."

The wide smirk La Volpe was sporting was enough to send a shudder down Machiavelli's spine. He was not going to like it, that much was certain. "Urgent business?"  


"In a way..."

He wouldn't ask, he would NOT ask, he would- "May I inquire as to what it would be?"

"Oh but certainly. I am going to write Ezio about his advisor going around naked, drapped in a curtain and drinking honeyed wine with a ghost. Surely, it would humour him on his way to the Holy Land." And with a bark of laughter, the thief was gone in a flash of orange, leaving Machiavelli to bemoan his fate.  
Whoever was this cruel muse who set La Volpe on his path. He knew it... the man will NEVER let him live this down.  
It could be worse though... he could have seen him actually 'talking' to Livy.  
... maybe he did.

Not so far across the rooftop, La Volpe stopped dead in his track upon hearing the horrified shout - apparently it took only so long for Machiavelli to realize how much of a mess he was in. Oh, this is going to be fun. But first... let's find a carrier pigeon to send to Ezio. And what kind of Assassin would he be if he left the recruits out of the secret of Machiavelli's habits? It was something worth being recorded for generations to come indeed. The great Niccholò Machiavelli wearing a curtain... blackmail material the quality of which he had never seen before.


End file.
